


Love Square shorts

by MireilleGigglesnorts



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Drabble, F/M, LadyNoir - Freeform, Marichat, almost reveal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-26 19:25:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7586869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MireilleGigglesnorts/pseuds/MireilleGigglesnorts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A repository of Miraculous Ladybug shorts/drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "There's something I've been meaning to say..."

Chat Noir sprawled on the floor of Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s bedroom at quarter to midnight, arms stretched indolently overhead while he lay on his back. In the past hour he had been curled up on the chaise lounge, stared out the porthole window a while with his chin in his hands, flexed at himself in her vanity mirror, and hung upside-down from the ladder leading up to her bed to do a few sit-ups.

Now his fingers toyed with the hem of the long skirt she was wearing, careful not to tangle his claws in it. Eventually she looked down past the side of her desk at him with a wry half-smile.

“I _told you_ I had a research project I needed to finish, you know. You don’t have to stay cooped up in here. Why don’t you go run around the city?”

“The city is boring. I like your room.”

“You seem plenty bored in here though, kitty. … Maybe I should invest in a cat toy for when you come over when I’m busy.”

He flashed a grin at her, upside-down from her angle. 

“I’d bring a book, but just end up asleep on it. A toy would be _purrfect._ ” His green gaze flicked away across the room. “I’ve just been thinking.”

There was a pause where she expected him to continue, so when he didn’t she turned in her chair and nudged the top of his head with a toe. 

“About what?”

The cat ears on his head gave a nervous flick, but he sat up, facing away.

“There’s been something I’ve been meaning to say. Or, ask, I guess. But I already know the answer so it’s a moot point.”

Now she pokes him in the back with both feet, poke poke poke.

“You can’t bait my curiosity and just leave it at that, Chat Noir. What is it?”

He turned around, stubbornly refusing to laugh when the last toe-attack caught him ticklishly under his ribs. 

“You, Princesse.”

“Me.”

“You – are _adorable_ and my _best friend_ and I would love to go on a date with you if you’d let me, but I _know_ you won’t let me, because you won’t let us even sit out on your balcony any more because _“someone might see”_ , and so it would be just as dangerous to let Hawkmoth know I care about you by coming out of a movie theater holding your hand or something, but I still _want_ to, but I know I _can’t_ , so I didn’t ask.”

She blinked a few times, caught off-guard by his breathless run-on sentence.

“… so uh.. I was just. Thinking. About it. … Instead.”

After a moment to process all of that, Marinette dropped out of the chair with a laugh to hug the flustered cat-suited boy, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“You’re really cute when you’re not trying to smarm your way into my pants, _minou._ Next time you come over, we’ll make it a movie date.”

He gasped with delight, embracing the girl in his lap.  
_“Can it be The Aristocats??”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first of what I imagine to be many eventual cute drabbles or interesting plotbunny tidbits.
> 
> Honestly half the reason I put this here (as it's more than a month old from when I put it on tumblr) is in the hopes that some of you waiting on chapter 9 of Balcony Visits will see this little note. I know it's only been about four weeks but to me it feels like that fic should already be done, only, life has been hectic and stressful and my muse hasn't wanted to come out and play lately. It will be done "soon", but I can't say exactly when. Thanks for reading. ❤
> 
> If you have a prompt for me, drop it to me via gigglesnorts.tumblr/ask. :)


	2. Sweat, Strain, Safety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild head injury warning. Nothing descriptive.

The two superhero teens landed in a crouch with grunts of winded effort, knocked back by a sizable amount of parking-garage ceiling, and even as they raised their heads to take stock of the maniacally laughing _akuma-du-jour_ on the far side of the city block, were assailed with another volley. Pieces of concrete as big or larger than the cars lining the street hurtled at them through the humid air. Already run down from an hour-long fight in the heat of midsummer that had gotten them no closer to penetrating DemoMan’s defenses, it was all they could do to try and dodge and weave to avoid the largest pieces. 

Chat Noir glanced up to his partner, about to ask if she’d had any new ideas, just in time to watch Ladybug wince and crumple from a glancing blow of a bit of curb to the head, her yo-yo not in its defensive shield-spin. The question died on his tongue, and he only managed a mangled cry of horror, leveraging his baton against the side of a truck in order to dive at her. A massive shadow darkened the immediate area as he bent to scoop her up, and with evil giggling filtering through as background noise, everything went black.

Dazed, the black-suited boy grimaced as concrete and rebar and ceiling tiles settled down over them, an immensely heavy blanket of weight full of angles and jagged edges trying to dig into his skin through the suit. DemoMan’s laughing faded into the distance, a small relief. While the villain wreaked havoc on the rest of Paris’ architecture, at least he was off their backs for the moment. Chat Noir opened his eyes, the night vision taking a few seconds to settle in, although there was little to see. He tried to move, feeling dust and gravel trickle onto his back, and only succeeded in eliciting a groan from the body beneath him. 

He inhaled sharply, all at once remembering why he was under a mountain of construction debris in the first place, and craned his neck stiffly to look down. Ladybug lay on her side, one arm thankfully cushioning her head. Her nose was just barely brushing the inside of his right bicep, the same arm he was resting a majority of his weight upon. Their legs were twined together, while his left arm was an inch or two above her shoulder, pinned by the rubble. Just beyond the reach of his left hand lay his baton, unmarred and taunting him with its shine as dust spilled steadily into his hair and eyes.

_“Ladybug?”_

The weak hoarseness of his voice surprised him, and the prone form beneath him did not stir. He licked his lips and sputtered at the grime he found there, then tried again, louder and while trying to move.

“Ladybug? Are you - “

This time she seemed to hear him, starting with closed eyes - but her sudden movement shot lightning behind her eyes and she managed only a throaty murmur before passing out.

“No - Ladybug!!”

There came a sudden flash of light that made Chat wince and look away as best he could, up and over her head. His eyes widened as he watched the bouncy red ribbons around her pigtails dissipate into nothingness.

Ladybug ... _**Ladybug** wasn’t beneath him anymore._

For a full minute he lay stunned, mind racing with conflicted anxiety. He should look down, but she wouldn’t want him to. Except she could be concussed and need medical attention. Head injuries were bad, _bad_ news. She could be bleeding. She didn’t want him to look! She could be _bleeding!_ She didn’t want him to loo- _She could DIE if it was a bad enough injury!!_

His jaw set into a furious scowl, and a resolute tear tracked a dirty line down his face. Well, if she decided to hate him for saving her life, he’d just have to deal. He shifted his weight more centrally over her unmoving frame and was just about to wrench his left arm free when a small voice piped up down by their feet.

“Wait, Chat Noir! She’ll be okay, she just needs -”

“Who are y- -- you’re her kwami?”

“Yes. My name is Tikki. I know it looks bad but I just need you to wait a few minutes.”

“She may not have a few minutes, Tikki! She -” his voice cracked, and he gulped down the waver in his voice. “She needs a _doctor._ I have - I have to get her out of here.” 

His right hand scrabbled uselessly at the ground above her head. He was staring at her hair, strands of normally shiny blue-black now dusty and listless. His eyes fixated on the sight, refusing to be tempted further below for the moment.

Suddenly the squeaky little voice was nearly in his ear, and he would have jumped if not for the weight of the heap on his back. A tiny limb patted his jawline, strangely cool in the hot, claustrophobic murk. 

“Chat Noir, please, trust me. She will be all right, she just needs a few minutes. I had to leave her so she could sleep for a little bit, but when she wakes up soon she’ll be fine.”

He didn’t reply for a long minute. He looked at her hair mingling with the dirt and rock, and his vision swam in fury. He had to get her out. He thought about Cataclysm, then immediately rejected the idea. All that would invite is a larger pile of gravel.

_“P-promise me, Tikki.”_

The little red spirit’s reply was immediate.

“I promise, Chat Noir. I know you care about her. That’s why you both will be okay.”

The boy curled and uncurled his pinned left hand. He flexed his muscles one at a time, testing his limbs and hissing under his breath as bruises made themselves known. He refused to acknowledge the cramps in his arms as the seconds passed, as droplets of sweat turned to rivulets in the heat and plastered his messy bangs to his forehead. He stared at the dust in Ladybug’s civilian hair, and waited for her to wake up.


End file.
